The seal, on the contrary, are growing less in numbers, although great care has been taken not to frighten them away. Also, we have not lately attempted fishing on the reef, for fear of reducing their food. We have been prevented from trying the eggs of the albatross, that their nesting may continue without interruption. They will probably leave, too, when the hatching season is over and the young have been taught to fly.
So far as our present ration is concerned, with the exception of beans, flour, and coffee from which our small daily issue is made, we are situated as though no provisions had been rescued from the wreck; for the captain has wisely ordered that all the rest must be held intact to provision the schooner. So, with all the nerve we can muster, the work on the schooner is being pushed. To-day the frame stands ready for the planking, and the captain thinks that in another week her mast can be ready for stepping.
Last Thursday we had our second most violent wind and rainstorm. It came with hurricane force from the eastward, and the tremendous sea crossed the reef and reached our beach with considerable energy left in it. Our schooner that is to be, with her frame almost completed, was perilously near the waves, and all hands were called. We turned out in the storm and carried her bodily higher up on the beach and breathed more at ease when we saw the seas diminish with the dying wind.
Mr. Blye has been, to-day, our Santa Claus, and with several others I have received a Christmas present of great value. As before noted, there came on shore from the wreck when it was being stripped a box of Manila cigars, and it has been supposed that they were all distributed by the generous owner and had been smoked. To-day, however, Mr. Blye discovered that three of them lay in the bottom of his chest, and to be impartial he divided them into three parts each and doled them out. My present was thankfully and cheerfully accepted, and while I am writing my journal, is passing off in wreaths of hope above my head.
Mr. Bailey and myself have for several days been having the joint use of an old clay pipe he had saved, and we have been trying to smoke the dried leaves and bark of the bushes around us. It is a failure with me. Now much has been said by learned men for as well as against the use of tobacco, but I do not hesitate to testify to its great value in conditions such as ours. It has been a cheering companion to our thoughts in solitude, and a comfort in depression of spirits. I have even seen one man offer his only coat for a piece of plug about the size of a silver dollar.
Sunday, January 1, 1871. New Year's Day—"Happy New Year"! I think no one but the marine sentry at the storehouse saw the birth of the new year or cared to see the new year come in. For myself I hope there will be no more holidays to chronicle here except it may be the one that liberates us from these surroundings. They have—the three we have had here—aroused too many sombre reflections in contrasting those of the past with the present.
Talbot has now been away forty-three days and it seems almost beyond probability that he should have reached the Sandwich Islands before the food was exhausted. There is a lingering hope, however, that some delay in starting relief for us may have occurred or that he may have reached some island other than Oahu, where Honolulu is situated, and that communication with Oahu may be limited. We are "threshing out" the whole situation to-night in earnest discussion between the sanguine and non-sanguine members of the mess.